


Tony And The Three Gibbses

by LeonoraChris



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Goldilocks and the Three Bears Fusion, Alternate Universe - Western, Angst, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-01-17 01:38:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1369192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeonoraChris/pseuds/LeonoraChris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Tony is running... He meets a family, he gains a family, bad things happen and there are second chances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  _The story and any possible original characters are mine.  
>  NCIS, its own characters and canon aren't._

It was a beautiful day and yet, looking as if the devil himself was after him, an eight year old Tony ran for his life. His once fine clothes were in shreds, he wasn't wearing any shoes and he was covered in cuts and bruises, some from running through the thick forest and some from that monster with scary eyes. A monster who went by the name 'father', or 'sir' in most cases.

Feeling tightness in his chest, the boy Tony finally stopped running and fell down on his knees, gasping for his breath. He was hungry, lost and first time outside his father's reach. With the adrenaline now gone, he was also tired and he had no idea how long he'd been running. All he knew was that he left that house while it had still been dark outside. For a very long time indeed, he realized, as he looked around for the first time since running away. There were no people anywhere near his sight and no houses either; most importantly, no mansions, big gardens and servants. Only trees, blue sky and some sunlight peeking through the trees and green roof of the forest. It was almost silent, if not for the birds singing and trees moving with the wind.

A small tree branch fell on the ground, startling Tony and he got up on his shaky feet and started running again, afraid that he would never find his way out. Seeing more light coming from between the trees, he let his feet take him there and finally left the forest behind.

The first thing he saw was a small house, which was so tiny compared to the place he lived in. His own bedroom was bigger than that. Feeling wary, Tony kept glancing around as he slowly approached the house. As big as the mansion fit for a king was, he had never liked it. There was something so warm and inviting about this place though. "People who live here must be really nice," he wondered out loud, with a small child's awe who had discovered something new and wonderful.

Not knowing it might be rude, Tony stood on his toes as he tried reaching the door handle to let himself in. He was small, so it wasn't easy. After few trials, he finally managed to open the door, which wasn't locked. Pushing the door open, the boy was in awe again. There was no fancy furniture, no heavy curtains covering the windows. No paintings with golden frames, with angry and serious looking people staring back at him. Just like the house, all the furniture was solid wood, beautifully and skillfully made. Flower curtains framed the windows and colorful rugs on the floor felt nice against Tony's cut feet. He didn't notice he was bleeding on the floor, ruining one very beautiful rug.

"Hello?" Tony and his voice shook. No one answered him though, so he kept exploring the little house.

In the tiniest kitchen he had ever seen, something smelled good. Big pot of that something was on the stove, but there was no way he could see what was in it. As he was about to take one of the chairs in the kitchen, to help him out with his burning curiosity and hunger, he noticed three bowls of something on the table. Climbing on one of the chairs, he looked inside; it was porridge, which his father would have declared as 'poor people's food' and thrown aside. Two of the bowls were big, but the third was small, which had to belong to a child like him. Tony frowned thoughtfully as he stared at the porridge. He was hungry and the last time he had eaten was two mornings ago, before his father came home, angry and drunk again.

Shaking away the memory, Tony hesitated for a moment before he took the spoon made of wood and tasted that mysterious food. It was so good, and even better when he was so hungry that he was pretty sure he could eat anything if given the chance. Afraid he'd upset the people living in the house by eating all their food, Tony with his child's logic took only a couple of spoonfuls from the two biggest bowls. Watching the small one, he hesitated, thinking how hungry this other child must also be. He took the small spoon in his hand and hesitated again before taking half a spoonful. Satisfied that he would be able to wait just a little bit longer for his next proper meal, he hoped the owners of this house wouldn't be too angry.

On his way out, Tony stopped at the front door. He couldn't leave like that, could he? Curiosity taking hold of him, the little boy turned around and went to explore the house.

Just like the kitchen, the living room was tiny. It had almost too big fireplace for that space and Tony couldn't help but wonder what it must be like living in here, sitting on the floor and staring at the fire playing in there. He wondered what it would look like. In the mansion there were plenty of fireplaces, big enough for him to be thrown in. Remembering the drunken threat from that one time, Tony stepped back quickly from the much smaller fireplace and nearly fell down.

There was a door, which was locked, and then the stairs... Unlike those unfriendly big stairs back at the mansion, these were just like this house, inviting, and he couldn't resist the call. Climbing the stairs felt like the most exiting thing for the boy. What would he find up there? He didn't even notice his continuing hunger or trembling feet, or that small trail of blood, which he left behind him wherever he went to, marking his way.

There were a few more doors upstairs, leading to a room that was too small to be called a room and three bedrooms. One of the bedrooms was all girly and it obviously was a child's room. Looking at the small bed, Tony felt envy. His own huge canopy bed was way too big for him and he felt much better sleeping in the warm kitchen, under the table on a hard floor. In there he used to fall asleep while the nice old woman, who made their food, kept talking to him. This bed was so small, but looked perfect for a child to sleep in. A child like him.

Looking around as if someone might be watching him, Tony decided he would only try how it felt lying down in it. Climbing on the bed had to be the easiest thing ever; at home he always had such a hard time getting in his and even his room was so big, cold and full of shadows, which seemed to be always moving. He'd always been scared of that room, although he had plenty of hiding places in there when his father was angry. Lying in this bed was the most wonderful feeling he had ever felt. It made him feel warm, almost safe. The people living in this house were not back yet and he was so tired. He'd only close his eyes for a moment...

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was a happy man. The day was perfect, he had a loving wife and a beautiful daughter. They were not rich, but they had enough and everything they could ever need. Life was good. And right now he was scaring the people in town with his good mood.

"Honey... People are starting to wonder what's going on in your head when you keep grinning like a fool." His wife chuckled at him. They watched as their little girl carried the a little too heavy basket full of apples, refusing to let her parents carry it, wanting to show just how big girl she already was.

"Shannon, I'm in a perfectly good mood for a change and you are complaining?"

Shannon chuckled again and shook her head. Indeed, who was she to complain? No, she wasn't going to complain at all. Leaving the town behind them, the little family headed back toward their home, ready to finally eat their breakfast, which had to be cold by now...

Something was wrong. Jethro knew it from the moment he saw their home. "Stay behind me."

"Jethro?" Shannon looked at her husband worriedly and took Kelly in her arms.

He looked at the open door and then at the blood on the ground. "Someone is or was in the house. Probably came from the forest."

Stepping inside the house, they didn't hear anything, but they immediately saw the blood trails. "Stay near the door with Kelly. If I yell for you two to run and hide, you run and hide. Is that clear?"

Shannon rolled her eyes and smiled. "Yes, yes. It's clear. Right, Kelly?"

"Yes, daddy." The little girl giggled, not noticing anything wrong with the situation. Perhaps she even thought that this was just another game they were playing.

Grimacing at the blood stained rugs, Jethro followed the trail of blood in the kitchen. Someone had obviously been eating—or rather, _tasting_ —their food. Why not eat, but only taste and from _all_ of their bowls? Following the trail, Jethro walked through the house, until he finally stopped in front of Kelly's room. The door was almost closed and the blood trails ended there. He didn't even need to see it to know this intruder was in his little girl's room of all places. Taking his rifle from the hiding place, Jethro went back to the door and then pushed it open with his foot, only to lower the rifle faster than he had opened the door.

Jethro was furious when he saw the sleeping—or maybe unconscious—child lying in Kelly's bed. No, it was way more than that. His anger wasn't aimed toward the blond little child though. Was it a boy? It was hard to tell with all the bruises and blood covering the little face and body. No small accident from a mere child's game could cause that. It was obvious someone had done this. With his hand trembling, Jethro leaned closer. When had he left the door anyway? He knew he'd have to call Shannon, tell her to go get the doctor, maybe even the Sheriff. He didn't remember the anger he had felt when he first picked up that rifle. All he could think of was horror at the thought of what if he had shot the little thing by accident. Not that such accidents would ever happen to _him_ , but still... Just the thought was enough.

"Hey, kid... Wake up." He brushed his fingers over the blood covered little tummy and flinched when the child did. How old was the child anyway? Six, maybe? The kid sure could use a few of Shannon's meals to get some meat over those little bones... As he was about to get worried that the kid wouldn't wake up, Jethro was suddenly staring back at the big green eyes staring at him.

* * *

His body felt so heavy and he tried ignoring the voice speaking to him. Then he felt someone touching him and his body reacted on instinct, more toward the beating to come, rather than the pain. Forcing his eyes open, he saw icy blue eyes staring at him. Seeing the man made Tony sit up too fast, only he was gently pushed back down. With the pain all over his body, he barely even heard the soft and shooting words spoken to him, nor his own soft whimpering.

"Shh... Take it easy, kid. You're really hurt," the man said and although his eyes were the color of ice, there was warmth in them, something Tony was not familiar with, which only scared him more. He wasn't sure how to deal with the unknown, mainly the unknown coming from people.

Noticing for the first time the mess he had made and realizing that this man had to be the one living in this house, Tony lost all the remaining color from his already pale face, if it was even possible to see that from all the bruises and blood on his face. His even more widening eyes however were a clue enough and the man took a step back.

"Easy there, kid. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm Jethro. What's your name?"

"Anthony... but I like Tony better... I'm eight," Tony added before Jethro even let out his next question, which had indeed been how old he was.

Jethro stepped closer with a big grin, but frowned when the boy shrunk further in bed, trembling and staring at him like a beaten animal. Taking couple of steps back, he held up his arms in surrender. "I mean no harm, kid. How did you get here anyway? Who hurt you?"

That was one question too many and Tony sat up straight. "I-I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to make a mess."

"I'm not—"

"I'm sorry!" Before Jethro even realized what was happening, the boy was off the bed like a small human bullet and then gone from the bedroom. With adrenaline filling him again, Tony was faster than he looked. He heard shouting from behind him and saw couple of surprised faces as he stormed outside the house.

"Shannon! Stop him!" However, by the time Jethro made it downstairs and Shannon had put Kelly down to run after the boy, Tony was gone. Looking toward the forest, Jethro shook his head. With some proper food and taking care of, that kid would make one amazing runner one day... He swore loudly. "Shannon... Did you see that boy?"

"Jethro! Watch your language around Kelly," Shannon scolded her husband, who barely even shrugged.

"You girls go inside and eat your breakfast. I'll go after him. There's no way he'll survive out there, not in that condition..."

* * *

It was a night time when Tony finally stopped running. He was lost again and on top of all his other troubles, he was now cold. That's when he realized he'd much rather take the fury of that unknown man than go back to his father. While he stood there frozen, Tony suddenly felt big and strong arms grabbing him from behind and then lifting him up. "No! Let me go!" He kept struggling and screaming as he was being carried away.

"Shh... Calm down. I don't want to see you get more hurt. I'm not angry, just worried."

Tony blinked his teary eyes and stared at the face he could barely see in the dark. That's when he noticed the lantern, which the man was carrying.

"It's me. Jethro. You do remember me, right? You fell asleep in my house."

"I'm so sorry, sir... I'll clean it up..."

"Don't call me sir, kid. My name is Jethro. You got that?"

"Y-yes, si— Jethro..."

"Attaboy." Jethro smiled and watched as the boy had a hard time keeping his eyes open and then finally lost his battle. Jethro's smile vanished and was replaced by a grim look, which he wouldn't dare to let the boy see.

* * *

"Jethro..." Shannon gasped as soon as her husband stepped inside the house and she saw the boy properly for the first time. "I was getting so worried. You left without explaining anything and then it became so late and dark and... I was so worried."

"Shannon, I promise we will talk later, but now I have to go find Ducky. The boy needs help and I don't want to keep moving him around. I mean, just look at him... Who does this to a small child? Who does this to _any_ child?" Jethro cursed softly. This time he looked sheepish at his use of language. "Where's Kelly?"

"Sleeping in our bed. I'm still cleaning up all that blood... I had to throw away that rug though. You know... The one that was a gift from my mother." They both grimaced. Neither was looking forward to having to explain why it was missing.

"Can you take him? You know... look after him until I'm back." Jethro was worried and uncertain how his wife would feel about him suddenly taking someone else's child in their home. Not that this would be a permanent arrangement.

"Jethro darling. You can let go now." Shannon sounded amused and Jethro almost blushed at the realization that he had almost death grip on the child, even when his wife had been trying to take Tony. He very reluctantly let her take the boy. "Go now. I'll look after him."

"Right. I'll just..." Jethro pointed toward the door before he left in a hurry.

By the time he returned, with the doctor—Ducky—following him, Shannon had put Tony in the guest room bed after taking off his clothes and wiping away the blood on him. She had also managed to wrap up the boy's wounds, before putting Jethro's big shirt on him. Even if she now looked at them calmly, there were tear tracks on her face.

Kissing his wife, Jethro turned to look at the boy in bed. "How is he?"

"No change."

They watched as Ducky examined the child with a deep frown on his face. It seemed like it took forever before he finally turned to face the young couple. At this point he had rebandaged the child's wounds properly.

"Well?" Jethro was impatient.

"Please, don't keep anything from us. How is he?" Shannon worried, much to Jethro's surprise. He still was unsure whether his wife would want to head slap him for bringing in some strange kid or kiss him.

Ducky let out a deep sigh and motioned for them to follow him as he left the room. "He needs all the sleep and rest he can get now."

"How is he, Ducky?" Jethro repeated the question when they all sat down in the kitchen.

"The poor child has been badly beaten. There is also some rather deep wounds on his back and front, which makes me feel a little concerned. He's lucky that none of them are infected... He is also malnourished. However, he is one though lad. I have seen many adults doing much worse in his situation. I'm almost shocked that he seems to have no broken bones, but if there are, they are very small. With such fragile bones as he has... He truly is a miracle child."

Jethro let out a sigh of relief and Shannon squeezed his arm. He still had to ask, "So he will be alright?"

"He'll be fine, but only with enough rest and someone taking care of him, not to mention getting him to start eating properly; nothing too heavy yet. I also looked at his feet... He should not be walking on them for a while."

"We'll make sure he gets all of that," Shannon promised and looked at her husband who was frowning.

"If I may ask, who is he?" Ducky asked, while he was picking up his things as he stood up to leave.

"We don't know. I'll try to find out tomorrow if there is anyone looking for him," Jethro said, leaving out the fact that he'd kill whoever was capable of doing that to a child. With people like that, no, with _monsters_ like that, he couldn't comprehend how their minds worked.

"You do that. I will come back in the morning to see how he is doing." Ducky nodded and left with a hand wave.

Shannon stared at her quiet husband who was staring at the candles in the kitchen. "What's on your mind?"

"If we can't find his parents or if we do and they're the ones that hurt him..." Jethro hesitated.

"Talk to me. What's on your mind?" Shannon repeated gently, having a pretty good idea what the man was thinking.

"I wonder if my dad would mind taking the kid," Jethro finally mumbled, defeated.

"Oh, Jethro... It's alright. If it comes to that, I wouldn't mind having another child. It's not like I've been able to give you another after Kelly..." She frowned and swallowed down the memories of the lost children in her now barren womb.

Jethro held his tearful wife. "You have given me more than enough, Shannon. You girls mean everything to me. I don't care about having more children."

Shannon smiled sadly. "Liar. I know you... It's true that us girls mean the world to you, but deep down you're a typical man."

"Hey!" Jethro protested jokingly and she swatted his shoulder with a mock glare on her face.

"You've always wanted to have a son, someone to pass on your skills and knowledge. Do the father and son things... And let's face it; a son is just what we need."

Jethro grimaced. "Let's not get too far ahead here. Someone out there might be missing the boy, a loving mother and father. I— _We_ should not get too attached to him." In his gut however, he knew that there was no one for the boy out there.

Shannon raised her eyebrows with a skeptic look on her face. "Well, even if it's true, this does make me think... We could adopt. You know, Kelly has been asking for a brother or a sister. Well, a sister actually, but I'm sure she would love having a brother just as much."

"Shannon..."

"And they're at the same age. She'd have someone to play and have fights with at home too." She wasn't going to tell Jethro how she had wept while cleaning up the boy. How angry she became when she saw the bruise—a shoe print—on his little chest. How for a while the boy had flinched whenever he'd been moved around. How she had felt fierce protectiveness growing inside her, which she had only ever felt toward Kelly; a mother's instinct.

" _Shannon_..."

"Don't you dare argue with me, Jethro. Not with this. Until you find his family, a _loving_ family, he will leave us over my dead body," she hissed.

He laughed and then hugged her. "I love you."

"I love you too. Now let's get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day."

* * *

As Kelly woke up, the sun was already high and that's why she was confused. Why would her mom and dad not wake her up like they usually did? Taking her teddybear with her, she ran downstairs. Both her parents were sitting in the kitchen and speaking quietly. She was pouting when she climbed on her chair. "Mommy! Daddy! Why didn't you wake me up?"

Shannon handed Kelly her late breakfast. "I'm sorry, honey. Daddy and I had some things to discuss."

"Grown up discussion?"

There was a bemused look on her mother's face and a pause, before she answered, "Yes."

"Alright." With that Kelly was happily eating her porridge. She didn't notice the looks her parents were giving to each other. She only looked up when the front door opened and Ducky entered the kitchen.

"Uncle Ducky!"

"Good morning, young miss Kelly." Ducky smiled softly at her and then turned his attention on the parents. "How is our boy doing?"

"He's been sleeping all night as far as we know. Jethro and I have been taking turns watching over him."

"Good. That is very good..." Seeing the looks between the two parents, Ducky crossed his arms over his chest. "Something you want to tell me? Jethro."

Looking sheepish, Jethro brushed his hand through his hair. "Well... It's just that... Shannon and I have been talking since yesterday. Someone has obviously been hurting him and in my gut I know I can't trust there to be anyone waiting for him with loving and open arms, and just remembering the look in his eyes..."

"Your gut." Ducky sighed. _These people_... "Jethro, you do realize—"

"If nothing comes in the way and the kid wants to, we would love to give him a home."

"I would be more than happy to see both you and the boy happy and healthy, _however_... If I understood correctly from the very little you told me yesterday..." Here Ducky looked at Jethro in a scolding manner, who only grinned sheepishly. "...you barely even know the lad. No, let me correct myself, you know _nothing_ about the lad. You have barely spoken a few words with him, let alone know anything about him, other than the first name and his age. I'm not one to doubt your famous gut, Jethro. However, perhaps you are not thinking rationally at the moment."

"Actually, it was Shannon who finalized this." Jethro didn't say the truth, that Shannon was the more sensible one in this relationship. He'd never hear the end of it.

"Oh, I see." Ducky smiled with a knowing twinkle in his eyes and Jethro grimaced. "Listen to me now, Jethro. You too, Shannon... Do not start making any plans just yet. The lad might not be too welcoming, even if it is true that he doesn't have a family, or his family did that to him. If you are not careful, you might scare him off."

"We understand, Ducky," Shannon said and Jethro simply muttered something under his breath.

Kelly, smart girl as she was, had been listening to the whole conversation with keen ears and had put together two and two. "Am I going to have a brother?"

The adults only now remembered that there was someone else in the room and they felt guilty for getting so much into their little talk that they forgot there was someone there to hear it all. Good thing Jethro hadn't had his chance to refresh his memory of the most colorful words he had learned from his times on the seas.

"Ah, Kelly honey..." Shannon tried and was startled by the tearful big eyes.

"But I wanted to have a _sister_."

Ducky's mouth twisted into a smile. "Well, I shall go check on the little patient, while you sort this out." Ducky left, leaving the parents with a problem to fix.

"Kelly sweetie, there might still be a sister some other time. Besides, you already have a girl as your friend. Maddie."

Kelly looked up hopefully. "Really?"

"Really." Shannon nodded and Jethro, the provider of the family, grimaced.

They all looked at the kitchen door when Ducky suddenly returned. "Our boy is waking up."

* * *

Opening his eyes, Tony saw those blue eyes again. This time he didn't panic, he completely froze, seeing three other people in the room this time.

"It's okay, kid. We're not angry and we are not going to hurt you. Do you understand?" Jethro asked.

"Y-yes, sir... Jethro..."

"Attaboy." Jethro smiled and without thinking he ruffled Tony's hair, who just stared at the man with wide eyes, not understanding what he was doing.

When the woman also spoke, it was with a big and warm smile on her face. It made her look very pretty. "It is nice to finally meet you while you're awake. My name is Shannon. You look like you're hungry. Are you?"

Tony hesitated. She seemed nice enough. "Yes, ma'am..."

"Just call me Shannon, Tony." She smiled still and left the room to start cooking, realizing that too many new people were overwhelming to him. Tony blinked his eyes in confusion. How did she know his name?

An older man walked forward, also smiling. Why were they all smiling? "I am doctor Donald Mallard, but you may call me Ducky, my boy. I'm the doctor who will make sure you will feel better in no time."

Hearing that the man was a doctor, made the little boy's eyes widen in fear. "No doctors! I don't like doctors..."

The men frowned and looked at each other. "Well, in that case you will be happy to know that I am a nice doctor."

Tony didn't look all that convinced, but he didn't feel too threatened by this man so he let himself relax, just for now. He then looked at the girl who was climbing on his bed.

"I'm Kelly."

"Ah... Kelly... Careful, you don't want to hurt him." Jethro was feeling unsure how to deal with this situation, but Kelly just shrugged and smiled.

"Don't mind them. Uncle Ducky is alright and daddy can look like a mean bear sometimes, but he's really just a cuddly teddybear," she said to Tony, while sitting down very carefully. Smart girl as she was, she was careful to not hurt this boy.

"Oh..." Tony wasn't sure what else to say and she looked at him, as if expecting him to do or say something.

"I'm Kelly," she said again. "I'm eight."

" _Oh_. I'm Tony. I'm also eight," he said, finally understanding what she'd been waiting for, receiving a bright smile from her in return.

Although Jethro wanted to ask all sorts of questions from the kid, he held himself back. It was obvious from the way the boy looked at them, with that extremely wary look on his face and the way he hadn't relaxed even once, that one wrong word or move and the kid would take off like there's no tomorrow. No, he'll wait until the boy was at least physically in a much better shape and possibly he'd gained some trust with the kid by then.


	2. Chapter 2

It had now been few weeks with Tony in the house and the parents hadn't spent too much time or effort trying to find his real family. Even less as the kid himself wasn't asking about his family either. Ducky wasn't too pleased, but secretly even he hoped that no one would come to find and claim him.

The little boy was still wary around people, but slowly he had started to let some of them close to him, although that seemed to be purely thanks to Kelly. For one reason or another, she was the only one who had made it quite easily past the walls, which Tony had put up around himself. If Kelly trusted someone, then so did he. Even Ducky the _doctor_ wasn't that scary when she was around. Jethro came as a good second, but only because he was a grown male and sometimes when he spoke with a too loud voice or was growling at something, Tony was reminded of his father. After a week though, he had started to become less scared by that and even learned that Jethro's bark was usually worse than his bite.

Sitting outside the house, Tony couldn't help but giggle at the way Jethro was now growling at Shannon for bossing him around. Shannon was a nice woman, but she reminded him too much of his own mother, who had rarely shown any love toward him, and then she died far too soon.

The moment the soft giggle filled the air, Jethro stopped his growling, Shannon smiled and Kelly giggled too, not knowing why, but she loved that happy face so much more than those serious looks of his.

"He can smile _and_ he can laugh!" Jethro grinned and much to Tony's shock, he took him in his arms, hugging tightly. "Come on now. Don't look so serious again." Jethro started tickling the small boy, who started laughing and wiggling, trying to get away.

"Me too, daddy! Find my ticklish spot, daddy!" Kelly demanded, jumping up and down.

Soon both kids were laughing on the ground, while Jethro was tickling them, and then he was pretending to be ticklish as well when the kids attacked him. Shannon watched the scene with a happy smile. They really did need another child in their family. They needed Tony and they hadn't even known it. Whenever Jethro would have to be on the seas again, because of his work, there would now be more of them in the house to keep one another company.

"Alright, that's enough! Dinner is ready!"

The father and the kids hurried inside. Even Tony had started to gain some healthy weight over his small bones, but they still had to make sure there was food on the kid's plate when they ate. For some reason he never took any himself. The porridge incident had been the only case they knew of.

Outside the house farther away, a man on a horse observed them for a moment and then turning his horse around he disappeared back in the forest where he came from.

The family's newfound happiness with little Tony would be a short one.

* * *

Sitting on the kitchen chair, Tony watched as Shannon made them breakfast. Unlike Kelly, he was always up early. Only Jethro woke up earlier than he.

Brushing his hands over his new shirt again, Tony couldn't help but smile. Although these clothes could never be compared to the clothes he'd been given in 'that house', he liked these so much more. He felt loved when he was wearing them. Shannon had made the clothes for him and although she wouldn't say anything, he knew she had stayed up few nights when she was making them.

Shannon looked at the happy little boy sitting there, so much happier than the sad little boy during the first couple of weeks. "Hey, Tony. You want to help me?"

"Can I?" The boy asked and his happy smile almost broke her heart. He was looking excited, then nervous and then he frowned. "I don't want to screw up..."

"Nonsense. You won't screw up anything. Come here." Moving a chair in front of the stove, Shannon lifted Tony up, to stand on it. "Stir the porridge. Be careful you don't burn yourself. Both the stove and pot are very hot."

Looking all serious and determined, Tony started to stir furiously.

She laughed. "Easy. Do it slowly. Attaboy, Tony."

Tony beamed as he stirred, _slowly_.

"Morning," Jethro greeted as he walked in the kitchen, all sweaty from his usual morning run. Kissing his wife on the cheek, he raised his eyebrow. "You're teaching the kid to cook? I thought I'll be teaching him to be a manly man."

"Wipe that grin off your face," Shannon scolded with her usual mock glare. "What's wrong with men knowing how to cook? You and Kelly couldn't cook to save your lives... And don't even mention your cowboy steaks. No one can or should eat only those forever, as good as they may be."

Jethro rolled his eyes. "I'll go wake her up. After breakfast I think I'll go fishing with the kids."

Shannon smiled affectionately. "Ah, now that's something Kelly will love. Although, with her around, you won't come back with any fish..."

"I'm sure we'll get some." Jethro shrugged and then turned to look at the boy, who hadn't really even heard them. "Hey, kid. Want to go fishing today?"

Tony looked at him and frowned, not really knowing what that meant, but he didn't want to upset Jethro, so he nodded. "Yes..."

Jethro's eyebrows went up. "Really, he likes to cook, but isn't that interested in fishing?"

Shannon chuckled. "Don't worry. I'm sure there's still plenty of 'manly things' you can teach."

"I'm sure there is..."

Neither of them really talked about it, but they were already thinking and talking about the boy in the future, as a part of their family, both making big future plans not just for Kelly, but Tony as well.

Later, while fishing, Kelly had been her usual self. Enjoying it, even if she scared away most of the fish with her loud chatter and giggling and running around. Tony on the other hand had looked bored out of his mind and could barely sit still the whole time they were there, even if he really tried. He simply did not understand why he had to sit there, holding a stick. Was there really no better way to get the fish out of the water? Once they got few fishes, Jethro decided to be merciful and took the kids home. He told Shannon that from now on she could teach the boy all she wanted about cooking, while he would go fishing with his little girl. It was an arrangement that pleased them all.

* * *

Twisting around in his bed in the guest room, which had somehow become his, Tony was whimpering softly when someone took him in their big arms.

Jethro had been working in the basement when he heard the boy's voice. It had been this way every night. The poor kid was suffering from nightmares and sometimes even night terrors, which he refused to talk about. He and Shannon had started taking turns during nights, but it was Jethro who managed to calm the boy down fast. Pretty much as soon as he took him into his arms. There was also one time Shannon fell asleep in the living room and Kelly woke up before her parents. They found her sleeping next to Tony, who was curled up and looking peaceful next to the girl who had started to become rather protective of him.

"Shh... I've got you. I've got your six. It's alright..." Jethro whispered softly, brushing his fingers through the soft blond hair. He couldn't help but wonder if it'll remain that color or get darker with age.

"...ro..?" Tony mumbled, opening his eyes for a bit. Seeing the icy blue eyes of the man always made him feel safe.

"Another nightmare? Want to talk about it?"

Tony shook his head and snuggled closer, making Jethro's heart skip one happy beat.

Nuzzling his nose in the hair, Jethro smiled. "Well, whenever you want to talk, I will be ready to listen. And so is Shannon and Kelly. Even Ducky. Most definitely Ducky."

Tony giggled tiredly. "Ducky talks too much, but I like it."

"I'm sure you do. He's happy to finally have someone to listen to his stories without stopping him or walking away while he's still talking."

"Like you do." Tony yawned and Jethro smirked.

"Yeah. Like I do."

"Jethro..."

"Yeah, kid?"

"...you..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear it."

"I love you," Tony spoke only a little bit louder and Jethro felt his heart completely melt.

"Love you too, kid," he said gruffly and kissed Tony's forehead. Then he got more serious. "Listen, Tony... Are you listening to me?"

Tony opened his startling green eyes and was definitely not pleased that he wasn't allowed to continue sleeping. "Yes..."

"Good. Now listen, you have been with us for a while now and... Hey..." Jethro was almost panicking when he saw how those big eyes were filled with big tears and then the boy's small lip was starting to tremble. "What's wrong?"

"I have to go back?"

Jethro frowned. "Back to where? I'm not sending you anywhere."

"Back to the house..." It was the first time Tony mentioned 'the house'.

"What house? Tony?" Jethro asked, but Tony only shook his head, too afraid that if he did say more, he'd be sent away. He liked it here and didn't want to go back. Didn't want to spend more time with that monster in that house. Didn't want to be in pain again. Didn't want to feel hungry and thirsty again. Didn't want to be scared or sad again.

Jethro cursed softly at the very thought that Tony would even think he'd let him go back to the people who had hurt him. "Listen carefully now... I will never let you down or send you away. As long as it's up to me, you will never leave us. As far as I'm concerned, you are part of our family... What?"

There was a wide-eyed expression on the small boy's face. "Jethro... You used the bad word. Shannon is going to scold you."

Jethro blinked and then he actually blushed. Grateful that it was too dark to see, he chuckled. "Well, you're not going to tell her, are you?"

Tony giggled softly. "No, but she will know."

"Really? And why is that?"

"Because you can't keep anything from her."

Rolling his eyes, Jethro ruffled Tony's unruly hair. It really did feel so soft, he never got over that fact. And after they had started feeding the kid, it had only gotten softer and shinier. Like pure golden silk. "What I was going to tell you is that you have been with us for little over a month now. As long as no one comes to claim you, we would like you to stay here, be part of our family. Be Gibbs."

Tony's eyes were widest Jethro had ever seen. "I would be Tony Gibbs? Like Kelly Gibbs, Shannon Gibbs and you, Leroy Jethro Gibbs?"

Jethro grimaced. "Just call me Jethro or Gibbs, _never_ Leroy. My dad calls me that. Or... You could also call me dad, if you want to... and Shannon could be mom and Kelly your sister..." Jethro swallowed down the lump he hadn't noticed forming in his throat. Why was talking suddenly so hard? His tongue felt like it had been nailed down his throat when he tried forming the words he'd been thinking about for weeks now.

Jethro started almost panicking, when the boy started crying _again_. First it was just tears and then suddenly it was downright bawling. What did he do wrong this time? "What's wrong, son? You don't have to, you know..."

"No... I-I'm so happy. I want to call you... dad... Shannon mom and Kelly... sister... but..."

"But?"

"What if the monster comes back? Takes... Takes me away..."

"What monster?"

"Sir DiNozzo Senior... With scary eyes..."

Jethro filed away the new information for later use. Planting a soft kiss in the boy's hair, he spoke gruffly, "No one is going to hurt you, son, I give you my word. Semper fi."

"Semper fi?"

"It means always faithful. It means that no man _—_ or girls—is left behind. We will never leave you behind or give you away willingly. _I_ will never leave you behind."

Tony looked at him and even with the darkness around them, he could see that the man's own eyes were suspiciously bright. "Promise?"

"I promise... Now, go back to sleep. Tomorrow I am going to show you how to work with wood. I might even tell you how I'm going to get the boat out of the basement. It'll be our little secret." Jethro grinned, knowing full well how much the kid was dying to solve the mystery.

Nodding and feeling suddenly sleepy again, Tony yawned and Jethro barely caught the words almost disappearing in the yawn. "'night... dad."

Swallowing hard, Jethro kissed that small head again. "Goodnight, son..."

Too focused on that sleeping little boy in his arms, even he with his inhuman senses didn't notice the smiling redhead standing at the door and watching them, with tears of her own freely rolling down her cheeks. Not wanting to disturb this special moment, she returned in their own bedroom. That night she slept better than she had in a long time, dreaming of their family of four, someday in the future.

* * *

One month and seven days. That's how long their newfound happiness lasted before they were thrown back into the reality.

It was by now normal day for Tony with the Gibbs family. Shannon was preparing their dinner and Jethro was down in his basement, where he worked on his boat. Tony and Kelly were playing outside the house where Shannon could keep her eye on both the kids from the kitchen window.

Tony was running around while Kelly tried to catch him. Now that he was well fed and his little feet stronger, he was only becoming faster and harder for anyone to catch him. He had natural talent, but he never mentioned to anyone how he was also used to always running back in 'that house'. Other than that one time, he hadn't mentioned the place or his father ever again.

Looking over his shoulder, Tony didn't notice the shadow suddenly looming over him until he ran into something. Correction: he run into some _one_.

"Hello, Junior."

"Mom! Dad!" Kelly screamed in terror as the big and strong looking man grabbed Tony, who had completely frozen to the spot, unable to move at all, to the point he had even stopped breathing.

"Jethro!" Shannon ran outside, yelling for her husband.

It was the sound of a gun being loaded, which brought them all back to their senses. All but the stranger that is. Jethro stood outside with his rifle in his hands, the sawdust in his hair and clothes as the only evidence that he had been in the basement only a moment ago. There was no mistake from the look on his face that he would shoot if he had to. "Let go of my son!" he growled.

"Your son? Junior is _my_ son."

"Who are you?" Shannon asked since her husband was past caring about such details. She hugged Kelly close to her chest as the girl kept trying to run to Tony. Much like her daddy, she acted before thinking.

"I am Anthony DiNozzo and this is my son, Anthony DiNozzo Junior, my only child and successor. I have been looking for him ever since he ran away from home."

Remembering the state Tony had been in when they first met, Jethro narrowed his eyes and he snarled dangerously, "And I wonder what would be the reason for a son of a wealthy man to run away? I will only say this one more time... Let go of my son!"

Realizing that this man was not joking and was seconds away from actually shooting him, children present or not, DiNozzo Senior scoffed. "People like you are not worth my time. I'll be back, with the Sheriff!" Then he pushed Tony on the ground and climbed on the horse he came with and took off.

"Go ahead, the Sheriff owes me more than few favors anyway," Jethro was grumbling as he put down the rifle.

Hurrying to the wide-eyed boy who was still in deep shock, Jethro's killing instincts were back when he saw the already forming bruise around the small hand. "Oh, Tony... Tony? Kid. Breathe. Tony!" He started to almost panic when he realized the boy's lips were starting to take an odd bluish color. Not knowing what else to do, he slapped the back of the boy's head and much to his surprise Tony started breathing again. Breathing and crying. It was heartbreaking sound. "Shh... Remember what I told you? I've got your six. Semper fi. Always." Jethro held the boy close and looked up when the girls joined them.

Sitting there in the small bundle, wrapped together, he made a decision. "Shannon..."

"Jethro?"

"I will go to the Sheriff tomorrow and talk to him. If there's nothing he can do, then we might have to move."

"You love this house. You built it."

"I love my family more. I can always build another house. I can't get another you or another Kelly or Tony."

Shannon smiled. "You're right... I know you'll do what's best for our family."


	3. Chapter 3

Sheriff Tom Morrow had to admit that he couldn't do much. DiNozzo had too much power and once the man wanted something, usually he got it, as was the way with those of much wealth. However, he promised to do everything in his power to try to keep the man away. So the life was good and went on, strangely uneventful as far as running into DiNozzo went, who seemed to have disappeared. According to what little Tom had managed to find out, the man was most likely living overseas now.

It was pretty soon revealed that as time went on and little Tony grew, the kid was a walking disaster. They didn't make it through a month without the boy getting hurt at least once, one way or another. Thankfully he always came out of those unfortunate incidents stronger and hopefully much wiser.

Kelly and Tony became so close that it was as if they'd been sharing Shannon's womb. If they hadn't looked so different, one would have almost thought they were twins. At first it made Kelly's best friend Maddie jealous, until she accepted that Tony wasn't going anywhere and he was actually fun to play with.

Jethro had to be away from home more often that he'd like to. Spending time on the sea, away from his family, was becoming torture and he was seriously considering doing something else for a living. Even going so far as thinking about asking if Tom had anything for him. Hating the idea of having to leave his family alone, without his protection, he was at least pleased to know that Mike—his retired former boss—was looking after them whenever he could. And when Mike wasn't there, one of Tom's men or Tom himself spent time with the family. Thankfully even Ducky still loved visiting them.

More than two years had gone by without anything big happening and they were getting comfortable. Everything was almost perfect and the only trouble was quite normal day to day incidents happening in a family with children and a father whose work took him out on the sea for months at a time. Maybe that's the reason things finally went so wrong. They became _too_ comfortable and forgot the possible threat.

The kids were now ten years old. Other than few traits from Jethro, Kelly was becoming more and more like her mother. Surprisingly Tony was becoming so much like Jethro, that it indeed was sometimes hard to believe the kid hadn't been born into their family. His hair had started to become darker and he wasn't the shortest one in the family anymore. Much to his joy, he was now one inch taller than Kelly. He still didn't talk about his life before becoming Gibbs, but his night terrors, which still hadn't completely gone away, told perhaps more than his words ever could.

The more time he spent with them, the more Tony had started smiling and showing his very own prankster side to them, much to both annoyance and delight of Shannon and Jethro. Kelly simply enjoyed it, since _she_ was never the target of the pranks. She simply enjoyed watching the results.

They were happy and too trustful that everything would remain good.

It was summer again on that day and Tony was 'the man in the house', as he proudly declared whenever he could. That's what his dad had told him he was, whenever he went away to work on a ship for several months. Now was one of those times and the family was waiting for Jethro to come home soon.

"Mom? Are you sure dad is coming today?" Kelly asked again. It was the fourth time during the last hour alone.

Shannon sighed and wiped her hands dry after washing the dishes. She had given up trying to get the kids to cooperate with helping her. It really didn't work out when they knew Jethro could come any moment. They could barely sit still, much less focus on their chores. "You know how it is with the work on the sea, we can never be completely sure at which moment he'll come. But he will come soon. I promise you that, sweetie."

"Will this really be his last time going away?" Kelly asked hopefully.

"Yes." Shannon smiled and glanced toward her son who had been unnaturally quiet for days now. "Tony, is everything alright?"

"Mom... Can't we go to the city and wait for dad in there?"

"You know there are too many people there at this time of the year. Why?"

He shrugged. "It's just... I don't think we should be home today."

"And why is that?"

"Gut feeling..."

Shannon chuckled. "You are already working on your own gut feelings? Daddy will be proud to hear that."

Tony stood up suddenly. He was angry and upset. "You're not taking me seriously! We must go! Mom, _please_..."

Shannon studied her son quietly for a moment and then she smiled softly. Anything for her children. "Alright. Go and bring the basket. At least I'm going to make sure we have enough food with us. Everything in that city is way too expensive."

"I love you mom!" Tony beamed, running off.

Shannon smiled as she watched him go, running fast as he always did. "Love you too, Tony... Kelly, sweetie. Could you please go and get our—"

"Mom?" Kelly turned around to look at her mother who had turned pale. Kelly suddenly had that bad feeling in her gut, which both her daddy and Tony talked about sometimes.

"Kelly, go hide and don't come out, no matter what."

"Mom..?" Now Kelly was starting to feel scared, but one look from her mother and she ran into her room, to hide under her bed.

Shannon took the kitchen knife from the table, just as the front door was kicked open. The mother in her was both furious and scared. "What do you want? Who are you?"

The man looked at her. "I've been sent to teach a lesson."

"Who sent you?" Shannon demanded. Then her eyes widened in shock as she suddenly heard the loud noise and then felt the pain, just a moment before she fell down. She was dead before she even touched the floor.

The moment she heard the gunshot, Kelly couldn't stop the scream that escaped from her mouth. Squeezing her eyes tightly close, she tried holding back her sobs when she heard the heavy footsteps coming closer to her room. _Please, please, please_... she formed with her mouth as the door was kicked open. Two heartbeats later she was no more.

* * *

In all his life Jethro had never beat an animal. Right now however he was beating the horse to make it go faster that it was even possible. His mind kept replaying the scene over and over again. How he had stepped off the ship and greeted Mike with a wide smile, but there had been that serious look on the other man's face and somehow he had known. Known before the words ever left Mike's mouth.

' _They're dead. I'm sorry, Jethro... Your family was murdered yesterday..._ '

If only he had been on time, he could have protected them or died with them. If only. _If only._..

Jumping down before the horse had even stopped, Jethro ran straight in the house, ignoring Ducky's pleading that he'd wait before going inside. Ignored Tom's shout after him. There was so much blood. So much of _their_ blood... Looking up, Jethro snarled between his teeth, swearing like he had never before. "Where... Where are they? Tell me! Where are they!? My girls! Where..?"

"Jethro..." Ducky's voice was calm, but it only served to anger Jethro even more.

"Don't you Jethro me, Duck! Where are they!?"

Ducky sighed, knowing there was nothing that could stop the man. "Come with me then. But, Jethro, you should know something... And _please_ , calm down first."

"Later! I... I need to... I need to see them!"

It was like he was sleepwalking or someone else was controlling his body as Jethro walked slowly after Ducky in his and Shannon's bedroom. There they were. Side by side on the bed. His girls... Shannon... His lovely Shannon. With a hole in the middle of her face. And Kelly... His sweet, beautiful little girl... Big gun wound through her small body. What was even worse however was that there were dried tears on her face.

"Jethro!" Ducky rushed together with Mike to catch the man when his legs refused to hold him up as suddenly everything went dark in his eyes.

It was later when he finally opened his eyes again and Jethro thought—hoped—for a moment that he had seen a dream. The worst possible nightmare. But then he smelled it, stronger than ever before in his life. The smell of blood. _Their_ blood...

He started crying. Then he was cursing and yelling profanities while still crying as he felt such intense grief and rage go through him, the kind he'd never before felt. It was all-consuming. He didn't even hear the words Ducky, Mike or anyone else spoke to him. He didn't feel the gentle hand brushing through his hair. And most of all, he didn't remember or see the small boy, standing at the doorway, still covered in blood and with his green eyes void of any emotion. Empty and lifeless, like he too had died.

* * *

It was a few days later, when they had buried the girls and Jethro was finally sobering up from his drunken state. After the funeral was over, he had locked himself in the basement, where he had destroyed the boat he'd been making. Now much to the relief of Ducky, Mike, Tom and a fourth person with them, Jethro finally came out, looking like a drunkard living on the streets. He was haggard, unshaven and smelling so bad, that the men took a step back when he entered the room.

"Who did it?" There was a dark look on his face.

"Jethro..." Ducky started and he was the first one to step forward.

"Leroy..."

For a moment Jethro just stared at the fourth person, the one calling him Leroy, with a blank look on his face. "Dad? What are you doing here?"

Jackson Gibbs almost flinched. "I'm your father. Of course I came."

"I don't need you here. Go away." Turning to the other men, Jethro repeated his question, "Who did it?"

"Jethro, you do _not_ need to know it. There is something much more important you have to know."

Jethro exploded, "What can be more important than this!? Now tell me, _who_ did this!?"

"Let me handle this," Mike spoke quietly to the others.

"Get your hands off me!" Jethro screamed. After not eating for a few days, only drinking alcohol when he _did_ drink something, not sleeping and full of grief, he was now weaker than he had been since his childhood. His current strength was next to nothing when Mike took strong hold of the furious man and dragged him outside the house and in the woodshed, the only place he knew they'd be alone from the prying ears and eyes.

"Listen to me now—"

"If you're not going to tell me who did this, you better keep your mouth shut!" Jethro snarled, but he did sit down _after_ kicking down some of the firewood, which he didn't remember filling the place with.

Mike swallowed. How could he live with the guilt? How could he tell that the reason Jethro's family had been without protection was because he had gotten drunk and spent the day and night away with some woman he had picked up on the street?

"I know who did it."

And how could he tell that he got the name of the killer from Jethro's son? A boy whom the man seemed to have forgotten completely. A boy who had walked into the body of his mother, witnessed the murder of his sister and had been unable to do anything to stop it while he himself hadn't been killed. A boy who had walked on his own to where Ducky was, to tell that his family had been murdered. A boy whose last words to them had been chilling, before he became completely mute.

**" _I guess I'm not even worth to be killed with them._ "**

Swallowing down the emotions, which wanted to come out with the memories, Mike closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again.

"Who? Mike, tell me. Please, tell me."

"It was some man called Hernandez. It seems that he's the servant of— _Jethro_!" Mike called after the man who had stopped listening after getting the name. He got the name and it was enough for him. He would hunt down the bastard and then avenge the murder of his girls!

"Jethro!"

Jethro ran in the house and went straight to his rifle and barely stopped long enough to pack some money, food, water and _bourbon_.

"Dad?" The voice was so quiet no one heard the boy, but it was the first sound coming out of his mouth for a while. Someone had washed him clean soon after Jethro's arrival and he was wearing clean clothes, no signs of the blood, which had been all over him before. Tony stood there, watching silently as Jethro was preparing for something. "Dad... Daddy... Where... Where are you going..? Don't go... _Please_..."

Jethro's mind didn't even register the words as he muttered absent-mindedly, "I must go. I can't stay here..." And then he ran out, ignoring the yells from the other men when they finally realized what he was doing. Taking the nearest horse, he took off, wondering what it was that he had forgotten. Thinking it was something he'd be able to buy once he remembered it, Jethro kept going.

Tony stood outside the house and stared after Jethro even after the man was long gone. He stood there for hours, until someone came to take him inside when it started to rain.

That night he became a very sick little boy. With a high fever and unable to breathe, he became delirious and kept calling for his dad, asking why he didn't love him anymore and then asking if he blamed him. It was the closest he had ever been to death and there seemed to be nothing anyone could do. Ducky the sweet doctor, he wept when no one was looking. It was the first time someone had to make sure he took care of himself as he barely left Tony's side the whole time. Fighting to keep the boy alive.

A few days later the fever broke and although the boy still had trouble with breathing, things seemed to be getting better, much to the relief of the people never leaving his side. That was their mistake, letting down their guard when they thought it was safe for them all to finally get some rest. The next time they woke up, Tony was gone and no one could find him.


	4. Chapter 4

Riding back in the town, Jethro was feeling pleased with himself. _Five months_. It had taken him five long months to track down the bastard. He hadn't asked any questions from the man, only asked someone to point the man to him and he had shot him as soon as Hernandez had been alone.

Now as he left his horse in front of Ducky's house and went to find his old friend, he had a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, the one that hadn't left him ever since he took off. There was something important he had forgotten. "Duck!" he greeted the doctor when he saw him walking outside, freezing at the sight of Jethro.

"Gibbs," Ducky answered coldly, much to the shock of Jethro. Ducky _never_ called him Gibbs. "So you finally decided to crawl out of your hole. It took you long enough." And Ducky never spoke like that to anyone.

"Ducky... What's wrong with you?"

"What is wrong with _me_!?" Ducky raised his voice, but stopped when the people on the street were staring at them. Without waiting to see whether Jethro followed him or not, Ducky went back inside and sent his assistant on a very long break.

Jethro spoke again when they were alone, "What have I done to make you angry? Surely you understand my need—my _right_ —to kill the man who murdered my family?"

"I do understand, believe me. However, in the middle of your own grief, you forgot that you are not alone in this. That you are not even the one this all hit the hardest."

Jethro frowned, feeling utterly confused. "What are you talking about? And don't you even dare say it's my dad you're talking about."

Ducky's angry face softened, but only slightly. "No. It is not your father. Jethro... We need to go to your house."

Jethro might have as well turned into a stone as he froze. "I'm not going there again. I can't. I _won't_."

"I am sorry, but you have no choice. You will come or you will come kicking and screaming. I can always drug you. You know I can be fast when I need to be, I am not _that_ old."

"Ducky..." Jethro was now pleading.

"We are going."

* * *

Jethro stood outside his home. He couldn't go inside. The place had been destroyed by the memory of their blood, their ugly death. "Why are you doing this to me..?"

"It is something you have to do. You will understand."

Scowling, Jethro finally opened the door and he stepped inside. At first he only stood at the door, but then he slowly started moving around the house as his memories of the girls came rushing back in his head, only to be destroyed by that last and bloody memory.

"Was your revenge worth it?" Ducky asked quietly from behind him, startling him. When had he followed?

Jethro was quiet for a long time, until he finally let out a shuddering breath. "No. They're... It'll never bring them back..."

Walking toward Kelly's room, Jethro stopped suddenly and stared at the closed guest room door. Frowning, he opened the door and for some reason his hand was trembling. Instead of the guest room, he was faced with a child's room. How was that possible? Kelly's room was the other one and... She liked girly things... This room... It was... He was gasping for his breath in shock as he suddenly had a flash of memory. _Startling green eyes looking at him_. Then another. _Biggest smile he had ever seen and the soft giggle_. And another. **' _Dad... Daddy... Where... Where are you going..? Don't go... Please..._ '**

Ducky was ready to catch him when his legs gave out. Helping him to the bed, Ducky looked at him with sadness as he broke down once more.

" _Oh God_... Ducky... What have I done?" Jethro looked up, his eyes wide with terror.

"Jethro..."

"Please tell me I haven't ruined everything... Where is he? Where's Tony? Where's..? Where's my boy?"

"Gone."

" _Gone_? No... Not him too... Ducky, not him too! I can't..! Not again!"

"Jethro! Would you please calm down! He is not dead. He _did_ almost die, but only _after you left_. He became so sick we finally lost all hope that he would make through it alive—but he did—and he kept calling for you..."

"Where is he?"

"The moment he _miraculously_ got better and we thought it was safe for us to get some rest, that he would be still too weak to even get up from the bed... Well, we were all wrong, terribly so. He was gone the next morning. It seems that he is not only good at running, but hiding and disappearing as well."

"Ducky... What have I done?"

Ducky stared at the younger man, who was looking years older than he should. And had he always had that small part of gray in his hair? He wanted to feel sorry for Jethro, and he did, but he was also still unable to forgive him just yet. He would, but he couldn't do it yet. "You went after the wrong man, Jethro. Hernandez was the one pulling the trigger, but he was only following the orders of someone else."

Jethro looked up sharply when he heard that. "What are you saying?"

"Had you stayed long enough, you would have found out... He worked for the DiNozzo family. He was sent by DiNozzo Senior."

"What!? Wait... How do you know that?"

Ducky hesitated. He was unsure if it was the right thing to do, telling Jethro.

"What are you not telling me?"

"The boy told us."

Jethro froze. "But how does he..?"

"It was on that same day it happened. It was getting late so I was ready to go in bed when I heard some commotion outside. As I went to see what was causing it and opened the door, there he was, standing in front of my door, Lord only knows for how long. Covered in blood from head to toes. His eyes... That poor boy was in the worst case of shock I have ever seen, yet somehow he managed to tell me what happened. Shannon had sent him to get some basket, but then he heard a gun go off. Running back, he walked into Shannon, tripping over her body, her blood... When he saw the man go toward Kelly's room, he was there only in time to see him murder her. Heard her crying."

"Why didn't he..? The man... Why?"

"I do not know, but it seems he did see our boy. Sadly the poor boy took it as an unsaid message from his father, that he was not even worth to be killed with them. It was the last time we heard him speak to us... But before that he let us know that he knew the man and that he worked for his father." Looking at the distraught man who was crying silently, Ducky spoke again, quietly, so Jethro almost missed the words, "He blames himself, that they are dead."

Jethro looked up again. "Why would he think that?"

"Your behavior proved it to him! Jethro... You did worse kind of damage than his birth father ever could."

Jethro, already drowning in the overwhelming guilt, stared at him.

"You gave him hope... A child, who obviously had not even known the meaning of happiness before meeting your family... And then you took it away."

And with that the last walls went crashing down and Jethro started sobbing as Ducky held his younger friend in his arms.

"Do not lose hope. We can still find him, _you_ can still find him, so do _not_ lose the hope."

But Jethro only cried harder. He couldn't see any hope. The victorious feeling from only hours before was gone and it was replaced by the deepest form of shame and guilt, and disgust toward his own actions.


	5. Chapter 5

Ten years. _Ten years_ of dealing with the loss and Jethro's hair was now completely silvery gray. He didn't even dare to look in the mirror, to face all the years showing their lines on his face. Each of them a reminder to him.

After first couple of years of doing nothing, other than searching for Tony and drinking himself numb, Jethro started working for Tom Morrow. By now he had long ago lost the hope of finding that last piece of his family again. Tony was gone. His girls were gone. He didn't get along with his father and after the funeral he hadn't even seen him. Shannon's mother was even worst. She not only hadn't spoken a word at the funeral, but she was obviously blaming him, which he knew he deserved, but it still hurt.

Mike was gone, somewhere, which made Jethro angry and disgusted. After realizing the man hadn't been there for his family and keeping them safe like he had promised, Jethro had wanted to hunt down Mike's ass, but this time he had focused on things that mattered the most, which was trying to find his son. DiNozzo Senior hadn't returned either and he could only hope that Tony hadn't ended up back in his hands.

He had new people in his life, some trying to become part of his family. Like that new girl in town, Abby. As much as he loved her and she called herself his favorite—he didn't have a heart to say otherwise—it was untrue. No one could ever become number one after his family. Dead or not. Gone or not. He couldn't bear to think about replacing any of them, no matter how much he might like someone. It would've felt like betrayal, when he already had let his family down by not being there for them. He didn't deserve another one. Sure he _had_ tried it, but after his last failed marriage he had given up even trying. His third divorce, much to the amusement of the people in town.

Riding through the city of Baltimore, Jethro felt the way he usually did toward most cases. No real passion for solving any of them. Sure, he did work hard on them, but it was only cases that reminded him of his family when he truly put his whole being into the work. This was not one of those times.

As he jumped from the horse and saw the back of some man, he raised his voice, "Hey! You! Where is your Sheriff?"

The man turned around and glanced at him before shrugging. "Why should I know? Just walk around, I'm sure eventually you'll find him."

Jethro was about to bark something to the man, but he was gone before he had time to do anything. Looking at the busy streets of Baltimore, he let out a weary sigh. How was he supposed to find anything in a place of this size? Going by his gut feeling, Jethro kept walking until he stopped in front of one big building. If bunch of wanted posters on the wall were anything to go by, this had to be it... Seeing a young man studying one of the posters, he walked closer. The man was a bounty hunter by the looks of it and a very good one by the looks of his far too expensive clothes. No farmer boy—or someone working under a Sheriff—could afford such finery.

"Hey. You. Is this—" His words died on his lips when the young man turned around. Although the hair was much darker now and he was so _beautifully_ grown up, those eyes couldn't be anyone else's. He'd never in a million years forget those eyes.

Time stood still as the men stared at each other, until the younger one of them finally broke the moment with a cheeky grin, although there was almost empty look in his green eyes. "You've become old, _Gibbs_."

Jethro swallowed, unable to form any words and then the young man nodded.

"Yes. This is the place, if Sheriff is the one you're looking for. Just don't mention me. I'm kind of not his favorite person." The cheeky grin got even wider. As he turned around to leave, Jethro took hold of his arm.

"Don't... Please... Don't go... Tony..."

Tony's whole face became emotionless and he watched as Jethro fell down on his knees and hugged him tightly. Then Jethro started sobbing openly in the middle of the city.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I'm sorry... I'm really sorry... Son... I'm sorry... Sorry..."

A lone tear escaped the younger man's eye and after that another and soon he was crying with the older man, silently and unmoving. The city kept moving around them. Big and busy as it was, no one even noticed the two men, both crying while the other one could only keep uttering the same words over and over again.


	6. Chapter 6

He was walking through the dusty streets of the city and without really looking where he was going. It might have been noisy around him, but it made no difference. He was deaf to the world, just as the world had been both deaf and blind toward him throughout all his life. Although he wasn't running and this sure wasn't a forest, the buildings and the people around him felt almost just as suffocating as it had felt in that forest all those years ago. And even though he was not running, but kept his steady and almost too calm steps, in his mind he was screaming and running faster than he'd been running back then. He didn't have to see it to know the person following him was not going to leave him alone anytime soon, if ever. He was not sure how to feel about that.

He had seen the looks of hurt and agony on the man's face the moment he pulled free and walked away. But what could they say to each other? Other than the ' _sorry_ ', which the man kept saying to the point he was now sick of hearing it. It was funny really. At one point in his life he had actually _wanted_ to hear those words coming from that mouth, and now that he heard them... It didn't mean anything to him. They might have been a father and a son once upon a time, but it had been ten years now. They had both changed. _He_ had changed. Was it really that much? Ten years...

He stopped walking and so did the man following him. He could feel the eyes on him, those ice blue eyes, which long time ago were able to make him feel safe and wanted. Loved. Even now it was the only time in his life he had ever been happy.

The man spoke to him, in that pained voice still, pleading, "Tony... Please. I know I don't deserve it, but... Please, son. Talk to me. I mean, _really_ talk to me. Don't avoid me with some nonsense. I want to talk to you. Few hours. An hour. Few minutes. Then I'll be gone, if that's... If that's what you really want."

"Gibbs." Tony turned around and he didn't miss seeing the flinch when he used that name. "Gibbs. Things are different now."

"I know..."

"You can't think I would want to come anywhere near that place again."

"I know..."

"I'm not that same little boy anymore."

"I _know_..."

Tony narrowed his eyes. He hadn't missed the hesitation before the answer. "I mean it, Gibbs. I'm different now. Things... Things happened and I had to learn to survive on my own. Had to grow up a little too soon."

The answer was a long silence, but at least the man wasn't trying to lie to him again. Good. He was sick of lies.

"I've got a room in the fanciest place here." Tony was glad he didn't have to say more as his unsaid invitation was delivered successfully. Walking side by side, the men didn't look at each other, both deep in their own thoughts, until they made it to the building.

It really had to be a some kind of joke... His son, staying in a place like... _this_? Jethro narrowed his eyes dangerously at the immoral women getting a little too close and friendly toward the young man, presenting themselves like the butcher would present his less savory meat, trying to make it appear as something good, which in the end made you ill and could ruin men. He stepped forward and grabbed the boy's arm, whispering harshly. "Do you realize what kind of place this is?"

Tony shrugged. "It's not like I'm sleeping with them. They're simply friendly enough to offer me a free room to stay in. As a payment, I keep them safe from the worst kind of customers. The girls are more like big sisters to me. Anything else would be simply unwise and would only bring more trouble than it's worth. I'm not a fool."

Jethro swallowed hard. "They obviously want you, trying to... to... You do know how—?"

The answer to that was rather quick and sharp, "I know where the babies come from. I don't need to hear that lecture at this age, Gibbs. My education on the subject was quite throughout, thank you."

"No, that's not what I... You can't stay here."

"Really? And who's stopping me? It sure is not going to be you!" Tony snarled and cussed out, just because he could.

Before he knew what his hand was doing, Jethro had head slapped Tony. "Watch your mouth!"

"Why? Like you don't swear? I told you, I'm not a boy anymore."

The men glared at each other, neither willing to give in. It was only after they started getting too much attention from the harlots and their 'customers' that they moved inside Tony's small room, which really was just a small bedroom with nothing but one narrow bed and on the floor there was a bag.

"What? Something wrong with my room?"

"It's small and there's no lock on the door."

Tony sighed. Of course the man would notice _that_ of all things, ignoring the other obvious things. Like the fact that a house like this was never truly quiet.

"And it's... _noisy_ ," Jethro finally pointed out the obvious, unsure how he was supposed to describe the loud moaning and deep groans in the room right above them, and the way the bed up there was making creaking noises and... "Tony, if it's money, I'm sure I can-"

"I have plenty of money, thank you very much."

"Then why stay in a place like _this_?"

"I have my reasons." Tony's whole demeanor was screaming to leave the matter alone, but Jethro having earned the rightful title of being a bastard during the last ten years, he was unwilling to step back.

"What reasons? Are you hiding from someone?" Jethro's eyes widened when he realized from the silence and blank look on Tony's face that he had gotten it right. "Who? Son... Who are you hiding from?"

Tony remained quiet and he sat down on the bed, taking off his boots and socks. He was angry that Jethro couldn't let it be, angry that he had the nerve to call him son, and _so mad_ that he had to come back in his life now, after all these years. Throwing his other boot on the floor, Tony let out his anger and hurt, which he'd been carrying with him for years. "You! I'm hiding from _you_! Don't think I don't know how you kept trying to find me!" Okay, it wasn't really the whole truth, but he didn't feel like the man deserved to know anything about his life.

Jethro visibly flinched. Sure, he deserved it, but... His eyes widened when he saw Tony's foot, his left one. The kid was missing one toe, the smallest one. "Son, what... What happened to your..?" He thought he saw for a moment a pained look crossing the boy's face when he looked at Tony, his _son._ It didn't matter how the things now were between them, Tony was still his. His son.

"It was the price I had to pay," Tony finally answered, trying to sound like it was nothing.

Jethro started getting angry as he was thinking about someone doing this to _his_ son. "What price and for what? When did this happen? Where? Why?"

Tony shrugged. He was feeling suddenly very uncomfortable. He didn't really like to remember those times. "After I left home. After I left your place."

Jethro went pale the moment he realized it had happened when his boy had been just a child. It had already been unbearable for him to think that someone had done this to Tony while he was a grown up like this, but now... "Ten years ago?"

Tony nodded, fiddling with the end of the old and worn blanket on the bed.

"But you were just... just a..."

"Would you stop it now! It's over! Past! Ancient history! It's just one lousy toe and I would be very happy if you didn't keep bringing back bad memories! I've been running away from them for _years_ now!"

Jethro stared at Tony during the rant and then he saw something in there. He saw hurt and loneliness. He saw _his_ Tony. No, didn't matter what the boy said. This almost a man, son of his, he hadn't changed. Not really. He was still there, not even too deep. His boy. His Tony.

Sitting on the bed next to Tony, Jethro ignored the way the young man was scowling at him. "I'm sorry," he said. He was more weary and exhausted than he had even realized. When was the last time he had truly slept well? It had to be when he last time slept with his whole family near him. "I'm sorry that I... that I forgot you..." he finally said it and at the same time he found himself again reliving that day in his head:

**' _Dad... Daddy... Where... Where are you going..? Don't go... Please..._ ' **

And that look on his son's face... Those last days kept haunting him every night and too often during the days also. And not just because of the murder of his wife and daughter. Somehow the biggest impact was left on him when he walked away from the only good thing that he still had. It took years for him to admit it to himself why it was so. Guilt. It was because _he_ had caused it and not some enemy he could kill in revenge. He had made it happen. It was all on him. He didn't have anyone to hunt down and kill like with Shannon's and Kelly's murderer. He couldn't avenge his son's pain. He could do nothing, because it was all on him.

"I let you down, son... But I want to explain. I owe you at least that much. I want you to understand that it had nothing to do with you. Do you understand me? _Nothing_." Ignoring for now his son's obvious unbelief toward anything he said, Jethro kept talking. It was all he could do. Talk and hope for the best. "I never stopped loving you. Never. It's just, the moment I saw Kelly and Sha— your mom. The moment I saw them, I lost it. I couldn't think. The only thought I had in my head from that moment on was revenge. It made me forget everything else. I know it's not a very good excuse, but you have to believe me it had nothing to do with you. I loved you no less."

" _Believe_ you? How am I supposed to believe anything you say after what you did? You broke your word! You said you'd never... That you'd never..." Tony couldn't finish as his voice broke down.

"Son..."

"Don't touch me!" Tony snarled when Jethro tried to put his hand on his shoulder. "Don't you _dare_ touch me! You _promised_ me no one would hurt me! Semper fi, that's what you kept repeating to me time and time again! You said you'd never leave me behind! You told me that you _loved_ me... You broke every word! _You_ hurt me! You left me behind, walked out of that door and never looked back! Not a moment of hesitation! Do you have _any idea_ how it felt? And then you... you never found me again." At this point there were tears on both their faces. Neither of them noticed it.

"I tried, son. I swear, I tried. I tried finding you until there were no trails left. After that I kept going through any clues I had and kept asking people if they had heard anything, for years to this point. I never... I never truly stopped looking."

"Keep your hands away from me! I hate you!"

Jethro ignored the screaming and he was now thankful for all the other noise in the building, which pretty much covered it all. He ignored the use of language, which he was sure to address again later. He ignored the fists, which were sure to leave their marks on him. At least one black eye by tomorrow. His kid had grown so strong... After much fighting, crying, cursing and screaming from the young man's mouth, Jethro finally managed to restrain the very upset youngster in his arms. He was holding so tightly he was afraid he'd end up hurting the kid. Tony kept struggling and throwing insults and at one point he even tried to bite Jethro, who luckily noticed it in time.

Neither man knew how long it took, but eventually Tony started getting tired. So tired that he went almost limp in the strong and warm arms. Arms that used to carry him around long time ago. Arms that used to mean safety and love. Home. Dad's arms.

"I really hate you."

"Shhh... I know you do, son. I know you do..." Jethro spoke softly in the hair, the hair, which still was just as soft as it was when Tony had been just a small child. Although he loosened his hold, he didn't let go, not when after ten years he finally had his boy in his arms again. Sure, he could be maybe called a man now, but to him... Just one look in those beautiful eyes of his, and all he could see was that little son of his. "I love you, son..." Jethro kept brushing his trembling fingers through Tony's hair.

"I hate you."

"I know you do, I know..."

* * *

It was dark and almost silent when Jethro woke up. He must have fallen asleep at some point...

 _Tony..!_ He almost sat up, but relaxed the moment he felt something heavy lying on top of him and still in his arms. Tony was still there and it hadn't been a dream. His son was there and he didn't care what he may have promised or what it would cost him, he wasn't going to let him go again... "Never again. You hear me, son? Never again am I making that mistake. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again," Jethro whispered fiercely, although he knew no one but he would hear his words.

Brushing his fingers through the soft hair, he took in the scent of the boy, which strangely wasn't so different from what he remembered, only more mature now. It made him so sad suddenly. How much he had missed... Ten years... All the important moments. The first girl he liked, because surely there had been one or few. Teaching all the important things of how to become a man. How to shave. How to throw a proper punch. Being there during the times his son needed a dad to look after him, to hold during those night terrors of his. So much, he had missed too much...

Tony moved in his sleep and made a whimpering sound, only to calm down soon after, feeling safe in the so familiar arms. Had he been awake, he would have denied it though. Noticing this, Jethro couldn't stop the wide smile spreading on his face. Ten years, that's how long ago it had been when he had smiled like that for the last time.

"Please... Let me make up for everything. All the wrongs I did to you. Give me a chance..."

Jethro spent rest of the night with his eyes open, too afraid to fall asleep. Too afraid that if he did and when he opened his eyes, Tony would be gone again.

* * *

He woke up slowly and barely even noticed the strong grip holding him down. He felt safe, which was something he hadn't felt in a very long time. Feeling the fingers brushing through his hair continuously made Tony snuggle closer to the mass of warmth under him. It was then that all the memories from the last night came rushing back in his mind and he opened his eyes, struggling against the strong hold.

"Calm down. Don't want to make us both fall off the bed."

Finally forcing himself free, Tony stood up. He was wobbling slightly, with his head all mush from the sleep. "Don't," he said when Jethro was about to steady him. Compared to the noise before, the building was almost deadly silent in the morning. He hated it. He hated it because now he could hear his thoughts and he didn't want to think.

Jethro sat back on the bed and kept his silence for a long time, giving the young man time to wake up properly. "I have no right, I know that, but I beg you, give me one more chance. Just one. That's all I'm asking. I'll even get on my knees if I have to. Tony. Son. Come home with me. Please... At least for a while."

After pacing around the tiny room, Tony finally sat down next to Jethro. When he spoke, it was so quietly that Jethro wasn't at first sure he had heard it right. "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry? _You_ have no reason to apologize."

"I didn't mean what I said. I don't... I don't hate you. I couldn't. I want to, but I can't."

Hesitating just for a moment, Jethro put his hand on Tony's shoulder. Once again he was thrown back by the change. His boy had grown so big... "Come home with me, Tony."


	7. Chapter 7

Riding side by side on their horses, Jethro had to smile whenever he looked at his boy who was riding on that horse with such elegant ease and at the same time looking like a cowboy who had seen life. That last thought made his smile falter and finally change into a frown. He still didn't know anything about Tony's life. Not before he came to them and certainly not after he disappeared. It was obvious to his trained eyes that the young man hadn't had an easy life before and after that short period of time living with them. It pained him to know that.

Looking at the blue sky above them, Jethro found himself silently praying for things to end up well between them. Maybe even a chance to go back in time and change the wrong choices he had made. Or perhaps for this all to be a very long and horrible nightmare and he'd wake up, with his whole family still there to greet him in the morning... _Shannon_ , Jethro formed the name with his mouth and like so often during the years, he spoke to her. Begging for her forgiveness for how badly he had messed up, even though he knew she wouldn't be there to answer him.

"Gibbs."

The almost too silent voice snapped him out of the painful moment of his and Jethro smiled sadly when he saw the emotionless look staring back at him. It had been that way since they left Baltimore, days ago, after Tony had finally agreed to come home with him. After he had practically begged and even nearly gone down on his knees, something anyone knowing him in these days would never believe to have happened. Well, saying 'agreed' might be a bit too much, if the look of extreme distaste on Tony's face was anything to go by.

"We're almost there," Jethro said.

"Yes. I am aware of that, but it's not what I asked. I was wondering if your business in Baltimore wasn't that important?"

Jethro froze and then he cursed. He had completely forgotten that he was supposed to meet with the Sheriff there. How on earth was he supposed to explain this to Tom? Not that his reason wasn't good enough...

It was the sound of laughter, which snapped him out of his musings. "I'm glad that my displeasure brings you joy." Jethro snorted, unable to stop the wide smile spreading on his face at the sound of his son's laughter. Although so much more mature now, it still had that same sound to it as it had been a long time ago. A sparkle that made his heart swell whenever he heard it.

Tony chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't worry about it too much. I'm sure Fornell will come to you instead. Just don't tell him you and I know each other. Like I said, I'm not exactly his favorite person."

Jethro looked at him with interest. "And why is that?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because I'm always in his way. You know, I am a bounty hunter. He prefers to catch the outlaws his own way, but usually I'm always faster and I have my own methods. Did you know that although it says ' _wanted dead or alive_ ', they won't thank you if you bring in a dead guy? I can't even count all the times Fornell has tried to lock _me_ up instead. He actually did once, but had to let me go by the next morning."

"Bounty hunter, eh?" Jethro wasn't sure how to feel about that. Just thinking about his son living a life like that, and obviously with no one to watch his back either... A lone rider, just like he was, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

"Hey, I'm a big boy now, pops," Tony said, not seeing the way Jethro's head perked up.

It was not ' _daddy_ ' or ' _dad_ ', but it was a start, right? Jethro swallowed down the lump forming in his throat and focused on the road ahead of them.

* * *

"Abigail. Sit down. Jethro should be back soon," Ducky spoke to the young woman spacing in his house.

"But, Ducky... Something is different this time. I can _feel_ it. What if he's hurt? I mean, more hurt than usually?"

"Abigail..."

"And why did he have to leave like that, without even saying anything? We're a family."

Ducky smiled sadly. Family was a very sore spot for Jethro and had it been anyone else forcing the subject on him, over and over again, that someone would have gotten seriously hurt or never heard from again. Or both. Hesitating for a moment, he spoke, "Abigail, you do know Jethro cares about you dearly, right?"

Abigail—or Abby to most people—stopped her pacing. "What are you saying?"

Before Ducky had a chance to answer, his young assistant rushed inside the house, stuttering as he tried to form the words in his mouth.

"Take a deep breath and calm down, Mr. Palmer," Ducky said to the young man, who blushed furiously and nodded.

"It's Gibbs. He's back."

Abby let out a happy squeal and hurried outside, but when she saw that Jethro wasn't alone, she stopped. Ducky walked closer to the two horses and saw that both the horses and the men looked exhausted.

"Jethro! You are back early. How did it go?" He eyed with interest the now fading coloring around Jethro's eye.

"About that..." Jethro hesitated and looked as Tony jumped on the ground. He followed the example, only he didn't jump.

"And who might this young man be?" Ducky smiled and studied the young man standing there, staring back at him wordlessly. Looking at him properly caused Ducky's breath to get caught in his throat. "Jethro?" This time there was a question in his voice. He had his suspicions, but he had to make sure Jethro was aware of it first. Although, surely his friend wouldn't be ignorant of something this important?

"Yes," Jethro said, having understood the unsaid question and unable to say much else, not with that lump forming in his throat again. It seemed to be happening a lot lately.

"Oh... My boy... My dear boy..." Ducky's eyes were filled with unshed tears and he rushed to the young man, who was now trying very hard to hide his own strong emotions. "Anthony..." Ducky pulled Tony into a hug, which the young man returned without any hesitation. It hadn't gone unnoticed by Jethro, who had his trembling hand on Tony's shoulder. The special moment between the three of them was cut short by the voice of their Sheriff.

Tom Morrow rushed past the few people blocking his way. "Jethro! You are back early."

"So I've been told." Jethro smiled slightly, wondering how he should explain that he hadn't even seen Fornell.

"How did it go?" Tom asked, sounding awfully impatient. The mission had after all been a matter of great importance.

"Well... About that..."

Ducky interrupted them, "Thomas. This... Do you see this young man here? Do you recognize him?"

"No. Should I?" Tom was confused. At this point Tony stepped forward holding out his hand, which Tom took, still trying to figure out how he was supposed to know this man.

"Anthony DiNozzo."

Jethro flinched at the name. _DiNozzo_ , not Gibbs...

"DiNozzo? Anthony? No, I'm afraid I don't— Oh _._ " Tom's eyes went huge and finally he noticed how familiar the young man looked.

"Yeah, _oh_." There was a cheeky smile on Tony's face and Tom found himself returning the smile, although he was still confused. Now, that smile he recognized. The kid had given him so many gray hairs... He and his father both had. By 'father', he was of course thinking about Jethro.

"Tony?"

"The one and only."

"My... Well... Look at you. Aren't you just..."

"Gorgeous?" Tony flashed a blinding smile and Tom chuckled. Well, at least the kid wasn't being modest...

"Big. Grown up. Almost an adult now. You're now what, twenty years old?"

Tony put a hand over his heart and faked hurt. "What? _Almost_? I can show you my— _Ow_!"

Jethro had listened and watched, feeling very much left out. It was only when his son didn't seem to be having any kind of problem heading the conversation toward inappropriate things, that he moved. Or rather his hand had moved and before he knew it, he had head slapped the kid, cursing himself over it. At this rate he really was going to push his son away even faster...

Tony glared, rubbing the back of his head with some angry swearing. "What do you think you're doing, old man?!"

"Hey! Watch your mouth or I will wash it with a soap!" Jethro barked before he had time to stop himself.

"Really? I'd like to see you try, _dad_." Had Tony not sneered it, Jethro would've felt happy to hear it. He opened his mouth to say something again, but Tony was faster.

"As I was saying, Tom, I can show you my _gun_. We can have a shooting match whenever you want to."

"Ah. That's alright..." Tom said, feeling uncertain how to deal with this situation, which felt like something that could blow up on their faces.

Ducky saved the day, or at least for those at the shooting range, which was being too close to the father and son. "My dear boy, why don't you and Jethro go home for now? I am sure you two have much to discuss. I will come visit you later and then we can all talk."

"I don't—" Tony began.

"See you later, Ducky." Jethro nodded and glared at Tony, _daring_ him to argue back. As the two left, Abby finally stepped forward.

"Ducky! What just happened? Who was he? Gibbs didn't even notice me!" she whined. And that was what was upsetting her the most, to have been like the air, which Jethro hadn't even noticed, although he must have known she was there. Especially with the way she had tried to get his attention.

"My dear girl, let us go back inside and then I can perhaps explain..."

* * *

Opening the door, Jethro stepped inside the house. Only then he noticed that Tony hadn't followed him. Panicking, he rushed outside. The relief, which he felt when he saw Tony standing there, was beyond words. "What's wrong? Come inside." Jethro had gone back to the soft and gentle tone when speaking to the kid. It was only then that he noticed the boy was white as a sheet and he was trembling. "Son?"

"I don't... I don't think I can do this... I'm sorry," Tony whispered and before Jethro had time to realize what was happening, he took of, running fast. It was almost eerie reminiscence from the past.

"Tony!"

* * *

He was running _again_. It seemed like that was the only thing he was good at. Running. Always running from something, rarely running to get to somewhere instead. His work didn't count.

It was strange. He must have been making some noise in the forest while running—even with how quietly he usually ran, with soft steps, instead of heavy as his tall and strong body would suggest—but he didn't hear anything. He only heard his heartbeats and breathing, although it was all sounding to him as if it came from far away.

 _Why did I come back?_ he questioned himself. He had promised to never go back home, to never forgive the hell on earth he had to go through because dad had walked away from him. That hell had been twice as bad than it had been before he met the Gibbs family. Yet somehow all that pain and heartache had been worth those short moments of happiness. Had he never met them, he would have never known what he'd been missing. And that had been what kept him alive all these years.

He missed them. Mom, Kelly. _Dad_... He missed his dad...

Seeing a fallen tree blocking his way, he didn't give it much thought. Distantly he knew he should have, but he was at this point too far gone to be able to think rationally. Running faster, Tony jumped and for a few seconds the time seemed to slow down. It felt almost like he had wings. And he almost made it over the huge tree trunk, but then just as amazing as the moment up in the air had been, it was just as painful crashing down on the ground. Distantly he heard something snap. A bone, he realized just as the darkness wrapped him into its tight hold. Before it completely took him over however, he thought he heard someone calling for him. Then shouting his name. Terrified.

"Dad..."

* * *

His awareness came back slowly and then he wished he could slip back into the darkness, That glorious darkness... Groaning at the sudden pain, Tony opened his eyes. He was in a bedroom. _His_ bedroom.

"Tony!" Jethro stood up fast. He had almost fallen asleep when he felt the movement and heard the pained voice.

"Wha'hap'n?" Tony mumbled and looked around the half dark room. His head hurt, his right leg was killing him and felt strangely heavy.

"You fell. Hit your head pretty bad and broke your leg."

The moment Tony took off, Jethro had wasted those first precious few seconds admiring the speed and way of running. By the time he had made it in the forest, following the trail of dust from the dry ground, the young man had been nowhere near to be found and so all he had left was his gut, which thankfully had pointed him in the right direction. The scene that he had to see however... It would surely be haunting him in his sleep for months to come. Lying on the ground, bleeding and looking so very... _dead_. For a moment Jethro had feared he had lost his son. Truly lost him this time. Then he had heard his son calling out to him, and not using any snarky nicknames or calling him Gibbs, but instead he was calling him _dad_... Carrying his now very big and tall son back to the house had proven to be awfully hard thing to do. He had grown up indeed... It was only the arrival of Ducky, when he could put his mind at ease. His son would be just fine.

Seeing the too pale young man in bed and now in pain, Jethro wasn't sure if he could trust Ducky's judgment.

Tony took hold of Jethro's hand. "Sure it hurts... Bad... But I'll be alright. Been through... much worse than this... You remember..? Don't you, dad?"

How could he forget? Jethro sat on the bed and gathered his son into his arms, trying to be as careful as he could with the broken leg. "It's a memory I can never wipe off..."

They were both silent for a while, both comfortable with the silence. Somehow it seemed to work for them both, using as few words as possible.

"I missed you, you know," Tony finally spoke.

"Really?" Jethro felt his heart both swell and break at the same time.

"So many times I... For so many years I would look out from the window and wish that you would come to me, to take me home."

"I'm so sorry..." Jethro whispered. He had lost the count of how many times he'd been apologizing now, but then again he could never say sorry too many times.

Tony shrugged slightly. "It's alright I guess. You had your mess to deal with, I had mine."

"You were ten years old!"

Tony flinched at the loud noise, booming too close to his ears.

"Sorry..." Jethro mumbled. Frustrated how he couldn't do anything right.

"It's fine."

"No it's not. What I did to you... It was wrong. Way more than just wrong. I should have... I should have been there for you, instead of listening to Mike and taking off like that. Ducky told me you were there when they..."

"I'm sorry."

Jethro was startled. " _You're_ sorry? Son, you have nothing to be sorry about. _Nothing_."

"It's my fault. My fault that they are dead. If we had never met... It would be much better."

"No. Don't say that." Jethro frowned, seeing how his words held no weight.

"Why not? _You're_ blaming me."

"What? I could never blame you."

"Then why did you walk away from me?"

"Tony... The only one you and I should blame is your father." The mention of his 'father' made Tony go stiff and Jethro noticed how he was starting to shut off. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Don't close me out, Tony. Whatever it may be, no matter how bad, I want to hear it. All of it."

"Hear what?"

"You know what I'm talking about... What happened to you after you left? Before we even met. I want to hear all of it. Your life Tony, tell me about it."

And talk Tony did. He began from his early childhood days before Jethro, what he remembered. He shared the abuse he lived with. How from the outside his life was all glamour and riches, but how behind closed doors his father was nothing but a drunkard, using his only son as a punching bag. How his mother hadn't been the kind of mom Shannon had been, but he had loved her nevertheless, even after she had died and left him alone with his father.

Although he never spoke of the moment he found Shannon and Kelly with their murderer, Tony spoke how he had ran away after Jethro left him, how the only place he knew to go back to was his father's place. Senior himself wasn't there, but a servant sent him to the man, which was overseas.

Seeing his father first time in a long time, he had known he might not make it out alive. Instead of a beating however, the bastard had ordered one of his men to cut his little toe off, calling it a lesson. Tony had actually been glad. A loss of a toe was hardly as bad of a punishment as he thought he'd be getting. The beatings continued, but as he started to grow up, he became much more thick-skinned until DiNozzo Senior got bored of him and threw him out of his house, disowning him.

"I was fifteen by then, alone in a strange land. Living on the streets... That is not a life I wish for anyone... After few weeks I became a stowaway."

"A _stowaway_?!"

"There was this ship I had heard would go to America. There was no doubt in my mind then what I had to do."

"Tony... That was stupid and dangerous thing to do..." Jethro shuddered, knowing what some people did to their stowaways.

"And I did get caught, on the first day. How pathetic is that?" Tony laughed, but Jethro froze in horror. Tony found it amusing. "It's alright. The Captain of the ship was nice enough to make me work. He even gave me food, a place to sleep and new clothes to wear. Kept me safe. We became close friends."

"Oh. Well, that's good..." Jealousy was such a nasty feeling and it didn't look good on anyone.

"Ernie was a good man. No need to make that kind of face. You would've liked him."

"Was?"

"He died a few years ago... I'll never forget him. I owe him that much."

"I'm sorry..." Brushing away that stubborn hair from his son's face, Jethro felt something wet against his hand. He didn't have to see it to know what it was.

"I miss them so much..."

"So do I, son. So do I..." Jethro hugged his son, who was suddenly sobbing uncontrollably in his arms. Years worth of tears. Soon he found tears rolling down his own cheeks.

At the door, Ducky slowly turned around, wiping tears from his own eyes and he took the young woman downstairs with him. "Let us leave our boys to have their moment for now, Abigail."

"It's so sad, Ducky... But they will be alright now, right? They are finally together again. They will be fine now?"

"We can only hope so."


	8. Chapter 8

"Need some help with that?" Jethro watched and worried as Tony stepped outside. In one hand he had a cane, to help keep the weight off his healing leg, and the other hand was holding a small tower of plates. Somehow that foolish son of his made it safely to the long table outside and put the plates on it. 

"No, I can handle this."

Sometimes Jethro found himself feeling almost glad the kid had broken his leg. Knowing how good Tony was at running and disappearing, at least he hadn't been able to do it with a broken leg. Then he felt terribly guilty for thinking like that. Even if it was true that only thanks to that the two of them had been able to spend time together and talk, but as a parent he never wanted to see his child get hurt.

During these days with his son, Jethro had been smiling and laughing more than he had since losing his family. It was then that he truly realized just how much he had changed and it made his heart ache again. He now knew more than ever that he couldn't lose Tony. He could not let his son go. So if Tony by the end of this decided to leave, he would follow him. His son may have been blessed with many talents beyond his years—including disappearing so no one could find him—but his dad had those actual years of experience and his tracking skills during the years had become something of a legend, even if that was mostly thanks to trying to find his son.

"You know, mom would be making a face right now."

"And why is that?"

"Because you're going to make your cowboy steaks. She did always say it's the only thing you can make."

Jethro growled gruffly, "Then get back in kitchen and start cooking!"

"On it, boss!" Tony chuckled and made it back inside without too much trouble. It scared him how easy it was for the two of them to get along. They had been talking every day and Jethro had even made him talk about that one thing he didn't want to talk about. The deaths of mom and Kelly, and what it did to him. He hated the man for making him go through that again. Even if Jethro did apologize afterwards.

Picking up a potato in the kitchen, he began peeling it and he found out soon how hard the job really was. Not because of his leg, since he was sitting down on a chair, but because of the endless tears rolling down his cheeks again. It was painful to be back in this house. All the memories were crushing him. Both good and bad. "I miss you two..." Tony whispered, wiping away his tears. Manly tears, he would say, despite the way even his nose was running. Hearing footsteps, Tony grabbed one of the onions near him and started peeling it.

"Are you alright, son?" Jethro asked, concerned.

"Yeah. Onions you know..." Tony sniffed with his back toward the doorway.

Seeing the obvious lie, but respecting Tony's need for privacy, Jethro took the knife he came for and left.

Tony dropped the onion. The vegetable had only made things worse.

* * *

One by one their guests arrived to the house and then sat down behind the long table, which Jethro had built in a rush. There were more people there than at Jethro's and Shannon's wedding. The people were both old and new friends. The 'little party' had been Abby's idea, a young woman who was a little too friendly with both him and Jethro than Tony would like. However, he found himself unable to hate her.

The guests were chatting happily while Jethro started carrying the food on the table, with the help of Abby and young James Palmer, or Jimmy between friends, as the stuttering kid had told Tony. There was plenty of food and Jethro jokingly pointed out how proud Shannon would have been of the two of them, him and Tony. And if Jethro was smiling more than before and Tony's eyes were red and a little puffy, no one said anything.

"M-Mr. DiNozzo."

Tony looked up and grinned at the nervous Jimmy. "It's Gibbs, but you really must call me Tony or I won't be calling you Jimmy."

"Right. Ducky told me to take a look at your leg, to make sure you haven't hurt it, with all that walking around today and..."

"Fine." Tony sighed and with a little help from Jimmy the two of them somehow made it inside.

Jethro turned away from the retreating duo and faced his guests with a huge smile on his face. _Gibbs_. Tony was using _his_ name again.

"Are you happy now?" Abby asked, having seen the whole thing and the way Jethro's whole face had lightened up.

"Yes. I think I am." Jethro was still smiling. Yes, he was happy. Of course the future was still uncertain, but by taking back the name Gibbs, Tony had in his own way agreed to try this. Whatever 'this' now was, Jethro was determined to not screw up. Never again. And although there were still many people out there who had hurt his son—mainly DiNozzo Senior—he wouldn't leave his son again to go after anyone. He would however keep his rifle in a good working condition. You never knew when he'd get the chance to use it on that one person who deserved it the most...

When he looked up sometime later, he saw few more people arriving there. People whom he hadn't seen since the funeral of his wife and daughter. Three of them stood out the most: Maddie, Shannon's mother and— _Oh no_. His father. Jethro felt someone gently touching his shoulder and he noticed Tony standing there, leaning against the cane.

Tony had a challenging look on his face. "You know, if I can forgive you, then you sure can forgive yours."

Jethro felt his mouth go dry at the thought of it, but then he grinned as he realized what else his son had said. _Dad_. Without snarkiness. Then he heard Tony swearing when he dropped his cane and had to pick it up, which his leg didn't thank him for. "One of these days I really am going to wash your mouth with a soap."

"Then I will wash yours!" Tony cheered after his dad, after taking the food from Jethro and watching as the man walked slowly toward the other part of his family. Jethro and Jackson had not seen each other for almost ten years.

"Hi, dad..." Jethro stared at his aging father. They hugged awkwardly, but only after the staring between the two of them got even more awkward.

Tony looked up to the blue sky. The weather was perfect and once again he found himself missing the lost part of the family. "I'm going to try, for you two. For us."

And although it would take a long time for them to repair their relationship, and perhaps Tony even would end up running away again, they would both at least try. And while Senior was still out there somewhere, he was no longer that little boy, helpless and so easy to hurt. If it would come to that, this time he would be standing next to his dad as they dealt with the man who took their girls from them. Just a man, and not a monster, as Tony used to believe as a child. A mere mortal who stopped looking so big and scary years ago.

Tony held up his glass of alcohol toward the sky. He had gone through a huge argument with Jethro before he was allowed to have any. When he spoke, his words were just a soft whisper, "For you two..."

**_The End_ **


End file.
